


Buckle Up

by meticulous_crow



Category: Midnight Poppy Land (Webcomic)
Genre: Humor, One Shot, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:35:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27342874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meticulous_crow/pseuds/meticulous_crow
Summary: Gerald is committed to keeping the streets of Narin City safe. But will he let this punk ruin his day?In which baby thug Tora takes a driving test.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 30





	Buckle Up

**Author's Note:**

> "If you could only sense how important you are to the lives of those you meet; how important you can be to the people you may never even dream of. There is something of yourself that you leave at every meeting with another person." - Mr. Rogers
> 
> P.S. Sorry to those of you waiting on me to update Take It from the Top! It's coming, I promise! My opportunities to write are few are far between these days, but I thought about this prompt in the middle of the night and just had to bang it out.

Gerald woke at 5:30 AM, just as the sun flung its first rays of light into the sky. He stretched, knees and ankles cracking, and threw back the sheets. He turned off his alarm seconds before it blared.

Sitting at the edge of his bed, he smiled. Another day, another opportunity to shape the future of Narin.

He slid his feet into worn gray slippers. He shuffled to his dressing table and wiped the sleep from his eyes. The page-a-day calendar his niece had gifted him last Christmas sat in the middle. He tore off today’s page and peered at it.

_We live in a world in which we need to share responsibility. It’s easy to say it’s not my child. Not my community. Not my world. Not my problem. Then there are those who see the need and respond. I consider those people my heroes. – Fred Rogers_

Gerald nodded sagely. This calendar had yet to disappoint. He grabbed the tape dispenser sitting behind the calendar and taped the page to his wall, joining the rows and rows of other inspirational quotes.

Twenty-two years ago, he had seen the need in his community, and he had responded. Today he would continue his important work. The work was trying and exhausting, and he often found himself cursing it by the end of the day, but he knew it was so important. He would stay determined today. He would be the hero to this Mr. Fred Rogers.

After a quick breakfast of buttered toast and instant coffee, a brisk jaunt up and down his street for exercise, and a careful examination of that day’s newspaper, Gerald locked his front door and got into his station wagon. No one else drove his car, but he still double-checked his mirrors and adjusted his seat. With a few scans of the street, he pulled away from the curb and whistled to himself.

The drive to work took just over an hour, but he usually loved it. The streets leaving the Narin City suburbs were wide and calm. He smiled at the parallel-parked cars he passed, waved at a young man who used his turning signal, and waited a full five seconds after coming to a complete stop at each stop sign.

The safety of the streets—that was his domain. He was responsible for the commuters who passed him being able to navigate their day-to-day without incident. Being able to drive was a privilege that opened the doors to opportunity and freedom, and it was his gift to bestow on his fellow citizens. Giving well deserving folks access to driving, and at the same time keeping the dangerous away from the wheel—that was his day’s work.

Some days, a reckless driver—surely not someone _he_ had approved for a license—horrified him and ruined the good mood he usually got from his drive. On those days, he was especially strict in the driving tests he gave, convinced that a similarly careless person stood in front of him and was trying to trick him into passing the test.

Fortunately, no such incident occurred today, so he could start the day with a positive attitude. He reached the Department of Motor Vehicles compound with a joyous smile on his face. He carefully parked behind the building and exited his vehicle. His watch read 7:45 AM. Perfect timing. His first appointment was at 8:15.

He smoothed out his uniform, a royal blue shirt and khaki pants, and then strode into the building, chin lifted high. He nodded at his colleagues, wiping the grin from his face and shifting into work-mode. He could see through the front doors that a long line had already formed. It would be a long day, but it was important work. Someone had to do it, and that someone was him. Besides, he had been through worse. He would stay positive. He would recite Mr. Rogers’ words.

In the fifteen minutes between the DMV doors opening and his first appointment, though, his mood already soured.

So many folks were already tainting the space with grumbles and complaints. A gaggle of young girls approached the written testing area, giggling and bickering with each other, and he almost groaned audibly. If they were taking the written exam, they were likely going to take a driving test too, and teenage girls were the _worst_.

He squeezed the bridge of his nose, as if pushing the patience back into his body. He gathered his paperwork and clipboard, and went out the side of the building to wait with the other license examiners. There were two of them waiting there, Clem and Joy. They chatted a bit, joking around with each other, swapping stories about some of the test-takers from the previous day, and watching the time fly by.

A thought occurred to Gerald. “Hey, Joy, we haven’t seen you on this shift in a while. Where you been lately?”

Joy rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. “You don’t even want to know what I’ve been dealing with. They put me with the driving school for a while, and I had to deal with some of the absolutely most rude little fuckers you can imagine. Completely out of control.”

“No shit?” Clem asked. He and Gerald glanced at each other. Joy was rarely one to be concerned about anything or anyone. “That’s rough.”

“Rough doesn’t come close, man. A bunch of thug wannabes or something. Some of they might already be full-on thugs. I don’t even know. Hard to tell with so much testosterone in the air. They kept getting into fights and talking back in all kinds of ways to me and the other instructors.”

Gerald tsked and shook his head. “Isn’t getting a license the one thing boys that age want? I don’t understand their behavior. Why get kicked out of driving school?”

“Well that’s the thing, though. They never did anything bad enough to get kicked out, or at least never got caught. All we could blame them for was having rank-ass attitudes. There was this one kid in particular, absolutely huge. Covered in tats and dyed hair like all the other punks. He towered over me and let me tell you, I could not get him to do a single thing. He just gave me this creepy-ass stare, didn’t say a word, and then flipped me the bird. I swear. All the other punks looked up to him, so if he wouldn’t listen, they sure as hell wouldn’t. Nathan—y’all know Nathan? Right, one day he couldn’t take it and just full-on yelled at this kid. And the kid gave the most terrifying grin and left. The next day, we found out that someone had sprayed shaving cream in everybody’s lockers, done donuts all around our lot, and slashed the tires on the vehicles. They took out the cameras too, and we never caught who did it, but I have no doubt it was that kid and the other punks.”

Gerald grimaced. He was wrong about teenage girls being the worst. These punks sounded like little terrors.

At 8:32 AM, the side door finally opened, and a few people trickled out.

“Here they come,” said Clem, standing up from where he sat on the curb with a sigh.

Gerald nodded and clicked his pen a few times, watching the test-takers cross the parking lot toward them.

“Oh, shit,” Joy muttered. “No fucking way. That’s him.”

“What?” Clem said.

She tilted her head toward one of the approaching people. “See the kid with the orange hair? That’s the driving school punk I was telling you about. I ain’t dealing with him; one of you can do it.”

Gerald squinted at the boy she was referring to and frowned. He wore tall combat boots and his arms were riddled with tattoos. Gerald turned back toward his coworkers, only to find Clem holding his index finger to his nose.

“Not it!” Clem laughed and playfully shoved Gerald. “Looks like you’ve got this one, old man. That punk looks scary.”

Gerald smoothed his shirt again and stepped forward to greet the kid. Unpleasant though this particular test might be, he was a professional, and he’d do his job seriously.

Up close, he realized the kid was tall, maybe even taller than him. Underneath the orange hair, the kid’s impassive face shifted into a glare.

Gerald return the glare and held out his hand. “Name?”

The kid just looked at his extended hand.

“I said name, kid? My time is important.” He gestured at the people waiting for their driving test.

The orange hair rose as the kid huffed. “’S Tora. I passed the written test.” He reached into his pocket and uncrumpled the papers he had shoved in there, and held them out to Gerald.

Gerald looked them over and made some notes on his clipboard. “Where’s your car, kid?”

Tora scoffed. “Not a kid, old timer,” he said, a challenge in his voice.

“And I’m not an old timer, kid. You think you’re so mature, prove it.” He held Tora’s gaze, impressed that the kid didn’t back down, and a little disturbed by the intensity of the golden eyes staring back at him. Tora crossed his arms and opened his mouth, but before he could respond, Gerald raised his hand and said, “Just keep in mind that I’m the one who decides if you get the license today. So you may want to watch your attitude.” With that, he broke the stare and looked in the direction of the parked cars. “Your parent or guardian bringing your car around?”

“Nah,” Tora said, walking off toward the cars. “He’s inside and doesn’t want to be bothered. Car’s just over here.”

Pleased at the boy’s cooperation, Gerald turned back to grin at his coworkers, but they were already working with other test-takers. He walked after the boy to a blue ’97 Mustang…

…and frowned. The car was parked across not one, not two, but _three_ parking spots.

He glared at Tora. “You drove here?”

Tora smirked. “Who, me? Course not. My parent or guardian did.”

Gerald sighed. “Fine. Get in and roll down the window.” Once Tora complied, he called out, “Turn on your left blinker. Great, now right blinker…” With each indicator, Tora did as instructed, and Gerald started to relax. He had been right; boys like this wouldn’t jeopardize their chance to get a license and act up like Joy described during the driver’s test. He walked around to the passenger seat and got into the car.

He made some marks on his checklist. “All right, can you test the horn, please.”

Tora slammed his fist onto the horn, and held it.

Gerald glared at him. “That’s enough!” he yelled over the awful sound.

Tora raised an eyebrow, still holding down the horn. “Can’t hear ya. Say that again?”

“I said that’s enough!”

Tora shook his head. “I must be goin’ deaf. Can’t hear a word ya saying.”

“I said to STOP!” Gerald yelled, feeling his pulse race as the noise continued. He shoved Tora’s arm away from the horn, and the noise stopped immediately. A wave of relief cascaded through him.

“Hey, keep your hands to yourself, old timer.” Tora complained, rubbing his elbow. “Don’t ya know to use your words, not violence.”

Gerald clenched his fingers around his pen. “Do I need to remind you, boy, that I could fail you right now? Stop fooling around.”

The kid rolled his eyes. “Can I drive already?”

With a sigh, Gerald gestured toward the ignition. “By all means. Let’s get this over with.”

Tora pulled out the keys from his pocket and turned on the car. As it rumbled to life, heavy metal music blared from the speakers at maximum volume.

Gerald startled, then cursed and switched it off. He stared at Tora until the kid looked back at him. “Are you serious? I can’t allow you driving around on these streets listening to anything at that volume. It’s distracting and not safe. I’m deducting points.” He clicked his pen and stated to write, but Tora grabbed the pen and flung it out of the open window.

“I don’t listen to it like that when I’m driving, man. Just got here early and waited around for a bit. Calms me.”

Gerald pinched the bridge of his nose again. This kid was trying his patience. He tried to remember that Mr. Rogers quote. What did it say? Not my child, not my problem? No, he knew that wasn’t it.

He sighed. He was tempted to fail him, but the kid deserved a chance, just like everyone else. “Did you just throw my pen out of the window?”

“You weren’t being fair.”

Gerald stared at him incredulously, and Tora spoke again. “You decided to fail me the minute ya saw me. Your pal tells you I’m a scary punk and ya believe her?. Even though he looks like the kinda guy who’s scared of his damn shadow. You’re all the same.”

Gerald could see the kid’s knuckles turning white from gripping the steering wheel, and a vein pulsing in his forehead. He had obviously recognized Joy and noticed her pointing him out, but clearly he was reacting to more than just that comment. Gerald felt bad for the kid. He coughed, and then said, “How could I have decided to fail you if you haven’t taken the test yet?”

The kid didn’t let go of the steering wheel, but Gerald could see some of the tension leaving him. He added carefully, “You don’t have to act like the person you think other people judge you as.”

When Tora didn’t answer, he sighed, and lowered the passenger window to get a cross-breeze. “Just get my pen, kid. And turn off the car before you do.”

When Tora got back in the car, Gerald accepted his pen and waited for the boy to buckle his seatbelt. “I’m expecting your best behavior,” he warned.

“This _is_ my best behavior,” Tora grumbled. When Gerald clicked his pen to write, he looked up hurriedly. “I already fixed my seat and mirrors and stuff. And put on your damn seatbelt. Don’t dock me for dumb shit.”

Gerald chuckled, and gave him full points for the pre-drive safety check. He put on the belt and then warned Tora again. “All right, kid. This is how it’s going to go down. I’m going to tell you what to do, and you don’t question it. You just do it, okay? And don’t even think about talking back to me. I’m the strictest license examiner in Narin City, no matter who I’m testing. My only agenda is to keep bad—and _reckless_ —drivers off the street. Got it?”

The kid rolled his eyes and grunted something that sounded like an affirmative, but his posture was much more relaxed.

“Then turn on the car and drive up to that stop sign.”

When Tora pulled back into the same parking spot at the end of the test, but this time centering the car perfectly between the two white lines, Gerald beamed with pride. The boy had completed one of the most perfect practical tests he had ever administered. He adhered perfectly to the speed limit, could answer all of Gerald’s questions about driving rules, and had waited a full six seconds— _six!_ Gerald was giddy just thinking about it—at each stop sign.

He filled out the rest of the paperwork and signed his name at the bottom. He handed the relevant pages to Tora, and looked him in the eye. “You passed, kid.” He saw a wave of relief and excitement pass over Tora’s face, before the kid shifted his expression back into nonchalance. “Take these papers back inside and they’ll print your license.” He grabbed Tora’s keys from the cupholder. “Come back and see me before you leave, though, and I’ll give these back to you.”

They rose from the car. Tora shoved the papers in his pocket and walked casually toward the building. Gerald made his way back to the testing area. His coworkers were out on tests, and a few people waited by the curb for their appointment. He waved toward the first one in line, a young girl shaking with nerves.

By the time he finished her test, also giving her a passing score, Tora was waiting by the curb. Gerald waved him over and held out his hand. “Let’s see it,” he said.

The kid pulled out his brand-new license and handed it over, unable to hold back a grin.

“Looks good,” Gerald said, and gave it back. “Now listen, kid. I passed you because you did good on the test. You did _great_ on the test. But being a great _driver_ is more than just passing the test, okay? It means being safe. Don’t let judgy people make you so angry you aren’t safe. Someone does or says something you don’t like? You let that pass through you, and you keep your eyes on the road and you make it to your destination, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tora sighed. “Can I get my keys back now?”

Gerald handed them over. “Where’s the adult who came with you?”

Tora smirked. “He, uh… took a cab. Didn’t want to wait for me waiting for you.”

Gerald narrowed his eyes. He wanted to trust this kid, but… “Being a good driver means following the rules, too, kid.”

The kid laughed and walked away. “Love the rules. Can’t get enough of them. See ya, old timer.”

Gerald watched him stomp to his Mustang and open the door. The kid waited for another test-taker to drive behind his car, and flipped off Joy, who was in that passenger seat. With that, he got into his car and slammed the door shut. He revved the engine, to Gerald’s dismay, but then reversed carefully and pulled out of the lot at a reasonable speed.

Gerald sighed. He had done the right thing, hadn’t he? He followed the rules, and in doing so, gave this kid a key to freedom. Hopefully he hadn’t just released a force of chaos to wreak havoc on his beloved streets.

**Author's Note:**

> My headcanon is that Tora can drive very well, but chooses not to because he could care less about driving rules. And nope, Tora did not bring a parent or guardian to the DMV. He drove his unlicensed self there on his own.


End file.
